In a surprising move, he pulled her into his body and twisted, flipping her on her back on the bed. Fingers lacing with hers, he stretched her arms wide and scanned her bared chest beneath him.
“Beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick and reverent. “Absolutely beautiful.”
He dipped his head and drew a breast into his mouth, circling her nipple with his tongue. Rolling it between his teeth, he bit down, sending shards of pleasure along her nerve endings, making her body throb all the more for him. Straddling her hips, he rose up, reached behind his back, and tugged off his T-shirt with one hand. She glimpsed a wall of glistening muscle before he bent his head and devoted equal attention to the other breast. Squirming, bucking against him, her inner pleas that he take her came out in moans and gasps. But he seemed to be on his own tortuous timetable.
Minutes or hours later—she wasn’t sure which—while his mouth continued to demonstrate his adoration for her breasts, his fingers hooked the sides of her leggings and dragged them down her legs, bringing her panties with them. She helped him along, kicking her clothing off her ankles.
Now she was totally naked to him. In broad daylight. He sat up once more, sliding beside her on the bed, sitting back on his heels, one leg nestled against her, creating a stripe of heat where it touched. Suffocating self-doubt rose to the fore as he roamed his hand over her body, his eyes following with primal intensity. And again. And again.
As she watched him taking her in, something unexpected happened. Her modesty scattered. The way he looked at her, with so much hunger and heat, and the way he touched her, as though worshipping every square inch of her, made her soar inside. She’d never felt more beautiful, alluring, bewitching. The bulge in his shorts told her he was affected too.
He ran a warm, calloused hand up her inner thigh, and she reflexively parted her legs, inviting him in, wanting more. After ghosting a teasing touch over her apex that made her clench with desire, he trailed his fingers down the other thigh. “So soft,” he whispered with awe.
Re-positioning himself between her ankles, he draped his heavy arms on her thighs and planted his hands in place. Once he had her pinned, he began leisurely licking and kissing the trail his hand had just blazed up her thigh. The closer his mouth came to her juncture, the more her lungs stuttered and her hips struggled to rise off the mattress to meet his mouth, but his grip kept her grounded. Her moans grew louder, her panting more uneven, and she bit down on her bottom lip. Just as he reached her entrance, he switched direction to the other leg, working his way slowly back down to her foot. His soft hair brushed her sensitive skin. She wanted to yell in frustration and yank him back up.
He kissed her toes and the tops of her feet and fondled the insides of her ankles with his tongue before moving to the outsides, leaving her gasping for breath. Oh so slowly, he tormented her with exquisite, erotic, nearly unbearable sensations as he moved up her calves to the backs of her knees.
Muscles alternately bunching and stretching with ripples of pleasure, her body became a live wire, buzzing, sizzling, primed and ready for him. And then he stopped.
He crawled up her body, swept the hair off her forehead, and kissed a corner of her mouth. “Good so far?”
A cacophony of unformed thoughts bounced around her brain; they seemed to swarm around demands she both wanted and didn’t want to make of him. Push, pull.
While she fought for a coherent answer, his hand swept down her chest to her breast, caressing, stroking, teasing. A mewl escaped her before she could swallow it. He let out a soft chuckle. “I take that as a ‘yes.’”
“Yes,” she finally managed, “but you’re driving me crazy.”
He nuzzled her neck and feathered kisses over her shoulder and collar bone while his hands explored her breasts. His touch was sometimes gentle, other times insistent. “Driving you crazy is the whole idea,” he breathed against her throat.
“I know, but—”
He took her mouth hard, cutting off the rest of what she’d meant to say. His tongue plundered at will, fragmenting her feeble train of thought. Her arms wrapped around his neck and shoulders, holding him in place.
The kiss ended with a few soft pecks, and he lifted his head, his eyes mining hers. “But?”
They were both breathing heavily.
“I want you inside me,” she whispered, running the back of her hand along his jaw, over his sculpted arm, down to the hard shaft in his shorts, gratified when a groan rumbled in his chest.
He captured her hand and trapped it above her head. “Not yet.”
While his mouth kept hers busy with another feverish kiss, his hand slid farther down her body. He slipped a finger inside her, then another, stroking, curling, manipulating with a perfect touch, and her body arched off the bed.
Oh. My. God!
She turned her lips away from the kiss so she could breathe, her eyes rolling back in her head. An orgasm crashed over her before she even realized it was building. No warning, catching her by surprise as she shattered and clenched around his fingers.
Wind knocked from her lungs, she lay in his arms breathing hard, coming down. His unmoving fingers were still inside her. Warm lips caressed the shell of her ear. “Better?” he breathed.
She nodded against his solid chest. “Better.”
He dusted tender kisses across her eyelids and forehead before rolling to his side and propping himself up on an elbow. Her eyes fluttered open and were immediately caught in his gaze. His fingers started their rhythmic stroking once more, and her body responded as if acting on its own, her hips rocking to the tempo his hand set. All
